The Dictator (Banker 2)

“I’m being stubborn?” he asked coldly. “You tried to feed me to my enemies—on a silver fucking platter.”

“But then I didn’t—”

“You were going to kill me. You took this mission knowing you were going to kill me.”

“Yes…but then I got to know you and couldn’t go through with it. Stop acting like that means nothing. It means everything.”

“Not to me,” he hissed. “A loyal person is always loyal.”

“And I was loyal to my father. How could I be loyal to a man I didn’t even know?”

“I don’t judge your actions,” he said. “But don’t expect me to pardon them. You did what you had to do. I don’t take it personally. But don’t expect me to ever want to be personal ever again. Whatever we had…is over.”

“And yet…you’re still sitting with me.”

His blue eyes turned sinister as he rubbed his hands together. A deep sigh came from between his lips, full of frustration and violence.

I put the tray on the table then walked to his chair. My knee touched his, and I looked down at him, seeing a man deeply conflicted. When he didn’t get up to push me away, I pulled up my dress to my waist then straddled his hips.

He gripped each armrest and released a quiet groan, like he hated my actions but felt powerless to stop them.

When my pussy rested against his lap, I could feel the enormous cock that used to pound me every single night. Fully erect and desperate, it pressed against his sweatpants like it wanted to slide right into my cunt.

My fingers moved into his hair, and I pressed my face close to his, our lips almost touching. I breathed with him, matching the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. I could feel his desire ooze from his pores, the invisible restraints keeping his passion at bay. But he wanted me…wanted me as much as I wanted him.

I pulled the dress over my head entirely and let it fall to the ground. Then I placed his large hand against my stomach, right where I imagined the baby was.

He closed his eyes and moaned, like that turned him on even more.

“Forgive me.” I leaned in and pressed my mouth to his, kissing the man I’d been separated from an entire week. My body craved his after the long drought, and I could honestly say there was no other man I wanted. Only Cato could please me. Only Cato knew how to please a woman.

He didn’t kiss me back. His lips were immobile, and then they turned ice-cold. He pulled his mouth away then rose to his feet, taking me with him.

I hoped he would carry me to the bed and take me inside.

Instead, he threw me onto the bed and walked out.

I waited for the sound of his footsteps to return, but I knew they weren’t coming.

Because he would never forgive me.

4

Cato

I hated that woman.

I’d thought I was the devil. No. It was her.

She could cast a spell on me like a witch. One moment, I hated her, and then the next, I was under her trance. I listened to her cry with pity in my heart. Instead of walking away and leaving her in solitude, I stayed so she wouldn’t feel alone. Then I consoled her…and lingered. Every time she asked why I stayed, I didn’t have an answer.

Because I knew I shouldn’t be there.

She was a traitor and a liar.

Why did I give a damn about her?

When she crawled on top of me, I had to use all my restraint to pull away. As far as I was concerned, she was just a surrogate. She would give birth to my son or daughter, and then she would be dead. There was no other way.

And I shouldn’t fuck her anymore. I could fuck anyone I wanted now—and as many women as I wanted. Monogamy was over. She was the first woman I’d given it to, and it’d all been a waste.

A part of me still wanted her, but if I caved, it would be a terrible idea. That woman fooled me once, and I couldn’t let it happen again. She was a snake that shouldn’t be in the garden—or my bed.

But something inside my chest ached when I thought of her father. My sources told me how he died. They hung him from a noose, and as he suffocated, they stabbed him to death. It was the cruelest execution I’d ever heard of.

No matter how much I wanted to hurt her, I would never tell her that.

The truth would die with me.

I didn’t know what they did with his body, but I was certain it was in an oil drum somewhere. When my father left us, I always wondered where he went. As I aged, I wondered what he was doing on Christmas as I waited for my mother to come home from work. I wondered what his life was like, if he had another family. It haunted me for a long time. When he showed up and harassed my mother, I was furious, but it also gave me closure. Now I knew he had nothing. He was so pathetic that he returned to the woman he’d abandoned for a payout. Then I never had to wonder again.